


you ease my mind, you make everything feel fine.

by scoutshonour



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Aftermath, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Jonathan POV, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 20:05:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13842039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scoutshonour/pseuds/scoutshonour
Summary: "You need to shut up and let us take care of you."Steve blurts out just as the lights go on, and Jonathan's eyes search for Nancy immediately. She looks just as surprised as he does, and he's not going to lie; the idea of Nancy and Steve caring after him gives him this strange, pleasant sense of domesticity that he hasn't thought of before and wants desperately now that the idea is there.





	you ease my mind, you make everything feel fine.

**Author's Note:**

> don't at me, but I still haven't finished s2 of stranger things, still wanting to savor it
> 
> idk what i'm waiting for, i basically know what happens and i really want to watch (jancy kiss + steve & dustin + lumax) 
> 
> but i obviously have not gotten around to the s2 climax/action and all, so this ..... is just vague and Jonathan just gets injured ok, it's how plot WORKS alright
> 
> title is from travis scott's song "goosebumps" & i'm p sure this line is about drugs, i like to also view it as someone's feelings for another person!

"Guys—guys, seriously, I'm  _fine—_ "

"Oh really?" Steve challenges, tightening his grip around Jonathan's shoulder as he helps him out of his car.

Jonathan's cheeks feel hot, and it wasn't from exhaustion, having ran and ran on this damn foot. It had still tired him, even with the assistance: Steve, Nancy, hell, even Mike, who looked like he wanted to complain every time Jonathan accidentally shifted his weight onto him, but held his tongue because he was Nancy's...something. 

It's not like they had time to discuss what they were, not with the chaos of everything, but calling Nancy his girlfriend felt _right._  Lord knows they were always going to end up there, anyway.

But he never expected to have Steve Harrington's arms wrapped around him and for him to actually, in a weird, confusing way,  _like it._ Nor did he expect to kind of like Steve helping him limp towards his house.

"So if I just—" Steve mimics the motion of letting Jonathan go.

The sound that escapes Jonathan's throat is horrifying, a lurch that runs through his chest as he clings onto Steve's waist, stumbling with the anticipation of his release.

If Steve is startled, he does a good job at hiding it; a look of faux-offense takes over his features as they approach Jonathan's front door. "As if I'd ever let you go," he scoffs before Nancy can whack his shoulder. Jonathan briefly wonders if Steve was aware of how how his words sounded.

Nancy looks amused, a knowing, small smile working her lips as she reaches forward to him, then stopping. "Keys?"

"Left pocket," Jonathan grunts.

She reaches in, rifling through the assortment of useless things before locating his keys. It feels odd, not due to her hands on him (he's literally been inside of her, so—), but because of Steve, who very clearly averts their eyes, staring up at the sky. 

"Are you okay?" Nancy asks for the millionth time, and for the millionth time, Jonathan says without thinking, "Yes."

"That limp says otherwise," Steve nags. Jonathan's partly surprised at how insistent he is, unapologetic about it as they stumble inside his house, Nancy's fingers finding the light switch.

"I'm okay, seriously, we need to go to Hop—"

"You need to shut up and let us take care of you." Steve blurts out just as the lights go on, and Jonathan's eyes search for Nancy immediately. She looks just as surprised as he does, and he's not going to lie; the idea of Nancy and Steve caring after him gives him this strange, pleasant sense of domesticity that he hasn't thought of before and wants desperately now that the idea is there.

"I mean..." Nancy says slowly, and he can see the gears in her mind shifting, working as she looks carefully at Steve, then back at Jonathan. "He's not  _wrong._ Just—" She stops, sighing, and he suddenly sees her. The lines of exhaustion underneath her eyes, heavy bags he thinks, the messiness of her tied-up hair, the dirt all over her face, the scrapes that makes something in his stomach painfully twist, and the gun in her hand, lowered out of relief.

She's so terribly exhausted.

"Take him to his room, please? I'll bring some water." 

He knows she needs a minute to herself, maybe shed a tear or just bask in the silence, and he'll give her that. Nancy knows herself and she knows—is learning to, at least—to open up, to come to him when she needs something, and she'll come with three cups of water when she's ready.

Steve nods earnestly, and seriously, his fingers are  _so_ painstakingly close to Jonathan's ass, it's making him blush. Which. Is ridiculous. His leg is probably broken and he's going to be fucked for at least a few weeks, he should be immensely relieved, too, and yet, it's Steve Harrington  _not_ touching some part of him is all that gets to him.

Fuck.

"Wait. Come here?" 

Nancy furrows her eyebrows, but walks up to him before they descend into the hallway, which isn't really a hallway as much as it is a few steps that will make Jonathan regret having legs. 

He kisses her, very softly, one hand on her cheek. She stills at the contact before leaning into his fingers, cheek against palm.

"I'm glad you're not dead."

She laughs breathlessly, like the sound surprises her, and it's—a look that he likes, because she's so beautiful, and he means those words. "I'm glad you're not dead too. But you will lose that leg if you don't let Steve hoist you into your room. Stop straining your  leg, idiot."

"Yes, ma'am."

He's smiling like a lovesick puppy, that he's nearly forgotten Steve, which feels impossible to do. And for once, he doesn't mean that in a bad way.

Steve clears his throat and the air in the room shifts. "Ready, man?" 

Another fuck. "Yeah, yeah, of—course." 

It doesn't occur to Jonathan that Steve has a boner until it brushes against his leg and he freezes. It must have been an accident, must have, but their kiss wasn't even  _sexual,_ how could—

It's a stupid thought, really. But Steve's not looking at him and doesn't quip when he carefully helps Jonathan settle on the bed, just sits, facing the same direction as him, so—it's not that preposterous, is it?

Jonathan decides to say something. "Thanks."

"'S not a big deal," he dismisses, and ugh, Jonathan's not going to let him  _not_ accept his compliment, so he leans forward, careful not to instinctively inch forward, poking him with his other, non-injured foot. 

Steve turns around, confused. "What?"

"Stop. I appreciate it. You don't—you don't  _have_ to do half of what you do, I mean, I'm actually a dick, I—" He stops, and yeah, this was inevitable. Every time he's seen Steve in the past few —they were in love!  _Are,_ god, he doesn't know.

He's scared to broach Steve, even though they have hung out repeatedly (is it hanging out if you're trying to kill a demorgogan?). 

It's part because he  _knows_ she still loves him.

Part because he doesn't really mind like he probably should.

And part because—god, he just likes having Steve around, okay?

"Dude," Steve says seriously, and he's the one moving closer, avoiding the side where Jonathan's bruised leg sits uncomfortably. "I don't blame you or anything. It's not...it's not the greatest situation, no shit, but—you're like—you're like a friend! And I think after all the unbelievable bullshit we've been through, we kind of can't not be friends. You know?"

He's hyper-aware of the space between them and how non-existent it is: Steve's knee is against his waist, his chest is an arm's-length away, and they're on a bed. His girlfriend is also in the other room, Jonathan gently reminds himself, and Steve's not...he's just not.

"I'm still sorry."

"Now you need to shut up again," Steve laughs, and it's not strained, comes out easy with a hand through his hair. "I mean, I know you'd help me if the situation was reversed."

"Would I, though?" He says, and he balks initially, because, shut  _up_ Jonathan, but it comes out lighter, and Steve's eyebrows arch, a half-smile on his mouth. 

"You'd apologize a million times for the half second where you didn't rush to my side, yeah." Steve snorts and Jonathan splutters, because, excuse him, when Nancy walks in. Her eyes are puffy and she wordlessly gives them each a glass of water, draping herself on Jonathan's other side. 

She props her legs onto Steve's lap and he's confused, blinking rapidly, but doesn't say anything. It should make Jonathan jealous, but it's a nice sight, he supposes, though it'd be a better one of he had one of Steve's weirdly long arms around him or fingers in his hair.

He'll settle for Steve's fingers on his knee, though, and fights back a smile. 

"Should we call everyone? Fuck, where  _are_ they anyway?" Nancy is worrying, and Jonathan is about to interject, when Steve says softly—

"Stop worrying, they're all okay. I think Mrs. Byers said something about going to Hopper's to me  before we left for here. No one's...I mean, for the most part, it's all good, okay?"

Nancy smiles slowly, blinking sleepily at Steve. "You always know what to say."

Steve shrugs, leaning down on Jonathan's bed, looking very comfortable. "Don't know what it is, but I credit my charm and grace."

"Grace? Yeah, you screaming my name when that thing twisted at me was very graceful and charming." Jonathan snorts, leaning his head against the bed-frame.

Steve gawks, and it's damn pleasing to see him, the king of snark, fail to come up with a remark. "Shut up," he eloquently says after a long period of time, "you could've  _died,_ fucker. What's grace and charm when Jonathan Byers is almost dead?"

"Sound logic to me."

That  _look again,_ Jonathan huffs to himself. He needs to talk to her later. "But I'm kind of jealous, though. Nancy, you didn't even cry! You just.  _Bang bang._ And then went over to Jonathan. Can I please be you?"

Nancy actually giggles and Jonathan sits back, watching them. It used to physically pain him, never really understanding their relationship; credit it to his past hatred of Steve or his overwhelmingly large crush on Nancy, your choice. But now, he wants to see, because, well, let's just say he can understand why Nancy wanted to be with him. It's not as mysterious now.

"Oh come on. That bat?"

"You have a  _gun,_ Nance."

She shrugs. "And how you somehow understand D&D after hearing Dustin half-heartedly explain the rules while I've been there, like, ten times, and have no idea what's going on? Some fucking skill, Steve."

Steve grins, and he looks stupidly adorable, fiddling with Jonathan's sheets like he needs to calm himself down. It's cute. Very cute. "You haven't had the right person," he says, "bet you I can show you much better than those shit heads. Or maybe—gasp, Nancy Wheeler has finally found something she can't master."

They're flirting, Jonathan muses, amused. Steve leans in, closing some space between them, not like there was a lot, anyway. 

And Nancy's also leaning in, a shocked laugh escaping her.  "I call shit. I can  _totally_ figure it out, I just—"

" _Nancy!_ "

Jonathan hisses, his voice embarrassingly high as he tries not to cry out at the explosive pain when Nancy accidentally nudges his leg onto his other. Tears flood to his eyes suddenly at how badly his leg stings, and goddamn, he needs a hospital.

Nancy shrieks and her eyes widen, hands moving to hold Jonathan's face. "Oh my  _God,_ I'm so—I didn't mean to, I cannot believe I just...I'm so sorry." It's so comforting when her forehead slips, brushing against him, like she's trying to get him to  _feel_ how apologetic she is. He's not mad, obviously, but his leg isn't all that pleased.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" Steve asks, concerned, and Jonathan just nods.

"I'm getting you ice. I'll be back in a second," she says firmly, leaving no room for Jonathan to interject with a comment about how fine he is, really.

She just leans forward to kiss him, chastely and more of a parting than anything, and then—

Jonathan has to blink to make sure he knows what he's seeing. He actually rubs his eyes, contemplates pinching himself, but no, no, his leg is still frozen in pain and quite useless, he's still in his bedroom, and Nancy is still kissing Steve. 

They both slowly part, not out of passion, but with sheer, soft  _what the fuck_ looks written on their faces. Nancy swallows, and she looks at Jonathan, who's not breathing yet, and Steve, whose mouth is hung open, and bolts.

Well. He's not annoyed.

Steve looks at him, and he's mortified. "Dude, I didn't—do you wan to hit me? You can, you can, seriously, holy shit, did I just ruin your— _no,_ you two are so good together, what the fuck just  _happened—_ " Steve keeps talking and it's refreshing and also a little sad and just. Jonathan laughs, very much furthering his confusion, and needs to take a second to calm down again. 

"Steve!" Jonathan says, touching his shoulder. "Calm down. I'm not mad. I'm just," he trails off, before sighing, "fuck, it was probably out of habit? I don't think...Nancy wouldn't do that, and she wouldn't kiss you in front of me." 

"She  _kissed_ me. Why did she do that?" Steve demands, like Jonathan can read her mind, but he gets it. This whole thing has probably been super confusing for Nancy, and Steve hasn't had a great time either. Jonathan hasn't too, and this whole  _thing_ has been more pining and more complicated than necessary.

Steve keeps talking, and Jonathan tunes out, before saying, slowly and clearly, "Oh."

"Oh  _what?_ "  He snaps irritably, and wow, his hands move a lot when he's talking. 

"She's  _so_ in love with you."

Steve laughs darkly, ruffling his hair again, crossing one leg over the other. "Nah. She's not."

"Nah," Jonathan repeats, and yeah, he shouldn't say _that_ again, "she is."

"Seriously, she told me—basically said she didn't love me." Jonathan knows Steve believes what he’s saying. But he also knows that Steve’s wrong. 

Jonathan's hands are shaking, and he half-realizes what he's doing, where he's going with this. He drops his hand onto Steve's knee, next to where his hand is, and their pinkies brush—he could stop, leave it there.

Obviously he doesn't.

He nearly died tonight. Touching Steve Harrington's hand is not going to kill him, he thinks, calming the bundle of nerves spooling in his heart.

"I mean, this whole thing—choosing between you and me. She didn't really want to, you know? Think about it. Would she want to say that she loved you if she thought she felt something for me?"

Steve nods, but he's still not really getting it. Jonathan's not, either, to be honest. "So you think she's still, what, in love with me?" 

"No, I know."

Steve nearly pulls back, but then his fingers hook around Jonathan's, like he's searching for comfort. It's the wave of relief, of joy, of validation that washes over him, before— "She's dating you. I'm not ruining that."

Jonathan breathes out slowly. "Who says you have to ruin it?"

Steve falters, shoulders sinking like he's loosening his muscles. "Look, Byers, you need to stop speaking in tongues, I can't fuckin' decipher what you're saying when you're not being  _clea—_ " 

It's not that good of a kiss. Jonathan starts off way too hard; Nancy's kiss, they both knew what they wanted. They were in  _sync,_ like they always have. Steve and him, they're always a page or two off, never too much to throw them off, but this...yikes. Steve splutters against his mouth and it's too much teeth, too much bite—

Jonathan starts panicking that he misread everything, but Steve makes a pleased noise, leans in as close as possible, and when those long, lithe fingers comb through his hair—

Jonathan  _melts._

They don't notice Nancy who's blatantly watching, leaning against the door-frame with a pack of dripping ice. She's smiling again, and he thinks he gets why. 

It's relieving, like a heavy weight has been lifted off his shoulders that she's okay with it, and—shit. 

Shit.

"That was ridiculously hot, and I won't even get annoyed that I didn't get to see who made the first move."

"Okay," Steve snorts, "you did  _just complain—_ wait."

Jonathan laughs, wanting to bury himself in one of their shoulders. He can't pick. 

"You kissed me."

"I did."

"Was this—" He wags an accusing, conspiratorial finger between the each of them. Nancy and Jonathan share another laugh, and god, he's flustered. "Did you two assholes plan this on me, huh? Trying to catch me off my guard?"

"Stop being so defensive and tell us you want us already," Nancy groans, and like she's been aching to do so, walks forward and drops on the other side of the bed, instinctively and gently pressing the pack against the part of his skin they couldn't bandage. 

She's so blunt, and he  _loves_ that about her. 

Steve starts to look overwhelmed, rapidly glancing back and forth between them. Nancy gives him an easy look, something in her eyes that makes Jonathan swoon, and Jonathan, well, he manages a smile. 

"You don't have to!" Jonathan blurts out. "Honestly, I get it, if you just want Nancy, that's okay—"

"God, Jonathan, shut up already—" And well, Jonathan can't argue with that, nor can he when Steve shifts onto his knees, so he can bend down to kiss Jonathan, who's currently dead right now, thanks. He needs to do something, he needs to make Steve pay for this, so he tilts his chin up when Steve pulls apart, tucking a few long, stray hairs out of his face.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"I want you, you fuck." 

"How romantic," Nancy grins, and can barely keep her hands to herself, grabbing his collar eagerly. "I missed your  _charm_ and  _swagger._ " 

Steve's profusely blushing, but he eases into Nancy's touch, kissing her without a word. Jonathan intently watches, noting everything: how his hands hold her face, thumbs rubbing her cheek up and down soothingly, and how she rises up to match him, until they're both up on their knees, pressed together.

It's not sexual, but it's intimate, and—

Jonathan wants his camera. Their sex is going to be documented, if Nancy and Steve are cool with it, and that thought really came that easily to him, huh?

"Is this okay?" Nancy asks the both of them, and she sounds very certain. 

"I mean, I  _did_ kiss Steve fi—"

"Really? I thought Steve would."

Jonathan huffs. "Excuse me, I  _did_ kiss you first—"

"Not really, we kissed at the same tim—"

"Wait, Nancy didn't kiss you first?"

Jonathan scowls, rolling his eyes at Steve, who he can't tell is teasing or not. But then Steve cautiously and tentatively curls up by his side, wrapping an arm around his waist and Jonathan doesn't think, just follows his gut and cocoons Steve into him with the arm pulling him closer, staying there on Steve's waist.

"It's okay. She kissed me first, too," he says into his stomach.

Nancy foots Steve's thigh carefully. "You didn't say if this was okay."

"Hmm, let's see, you kissed me, he kissed me, two fucking hot and wonderful people laid one on me. Also, we killed a monster, and hey, I'm not dead! Everything's okay. It's—all great," he says breathlessly, hooking a leg around Nancy and reeling her in.

Nancy kisses Steve's forehead and he sighs contently, eyes shutting when her lips meet his skin.

"Good," she says, and sort of holds him like that.

"Hold on," Jonathan blurts out, and Nancy rolls her eyes playfully, leaning across Steve's chest.

"What, are you lonely? Want some—"

"It did  _not_ take you that long to get ice, and you shut your door on the way out." He stops, slowly grinning. "You pervert."

"Oh, shut up! You two were finally figuring things out."

"What do you mean, finally?" Steve interjects curiously. 

Nancy laughs. "Come on, this isn't new."

"Excu—"

"Think about it! Steve, you bought Jonathan a camera! You've been trying to make him your friend for the past year, and anytime Jonathan let up, you were a schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher. And Jonathan, when you complain, you're not complaining.  _Oh, Steve's stupid hair, that dumb smirk, god, he thinks he's so hot—_ like. That's not—that's very sexual, you know."

She says this all factually and Steve and Jonathan stare, before looking at each other. No, it's not—really? He had always felt nervous around Steve, but he didn't...wasn't it the Nancy of it...but—

" _You bought me the camera?"_

"You have a thing for my hair!"

"You're both oblivious!"

Steve whips around and tackles her with kisses, and Jonathan can't really join in, but it's all good. Steve plants a lazy kiss to his neck, too, and Nancy holds his hand, and they both shift until he's in the middle. Slick.

"You need to go to a hospital," Nancy says. 

"Yeah, you're actually going to lose your leg."

"Thanks, Steve, I appreciate that," he says dryly, and Steve makes a silly face up at him. Nancy pokes his nose, before shifting her head into the crook of Jonathan's shoulder.

"Today was...a lot."

It has been, but they all know that's not what Steve means exactly. 

Three people. The idea's not as ludicrous as it would be considering the day he's had, and honestly, his mom won't mind. She'll probably give him an uncomfortably long sex talk, now that he'll be with a guy and a girl, but it's part of the dating experience, right? As for their parents, he doubts they'll be okay with it, but—fuck it. 

Clearly, neither of them care. 

There are conversations they need to have and questions they need to ask.  _Honest_ ones, too. But he's not scared, he's excited even, and all of that can wait until tomorrow, preferably after he has an x-ray and the cast he'll definitely need. His mom might give him a strange look when she sees him tomorrow morning (he won't let either leave the bed and all the cuddling, he decides, until noon) but it'll be with a smile, and Will will just smother him with a hug.

Tomorrow. 

What an exciting word, he thinks genuinely.

"Jonathan?" Steve says, snapping in front of his fingers.

"Yeah?"

"What do you think?"

"About what?"

Nancy says with a lot of excitement, a lustful twinkle in her eyes, "Steve wants to give you a hand job, but he's not sure if he can."

"Oh."

Jonathan's cheeks are red, but they have been for the entire ordeal, so who's surprised? "I mean. Maybe not? I can ask the doctor tomorrow, though—yeah, yeah, I'll definitely do that."

"I, on the other hand,  _can_ give Steve a hand-job."

"I'm not opposed to the idea," Jonathan says frankly, "I'll have serious blue balls, but Steve's boner has poked me in the thigh, twice today, including right now, so  _please._ "

"Shit, you noticed!?"

"Let me take care of you," Nancy says, and Jonathan—he wants to touch her just based on those words, but he stays still. 

They're art, and both  _so_ beautiful. Jonathan doesn't talk, gawks mostly, but will chime in, telling Nancy and Steve how hot they are. He says something about how good Steve's taking it, how pretty he is, and he finishes very quickly, so—that's definitely going to come back later. 

Nancy pulls out the moment she registers he's about to come, and Jonathan cries out, "my  _sheets,_ Nancy!" and she stumbles to do something, resolving for her hands covering his shoot of come.

It's too late, though, but Jonathan just chuckles. "Meh. I can always wash it."

"You need to warn me!" Nancy says, laughing as she swats at Steve's chest. He groans, not really out of his orgasm yet, pressing a lazy kiss to Nancy's chin. He flips her around and she lands with a strangled gasp, the hint of a grin curving upwards on her lips. 

"My turn."

Jonathan has to bite down to keep from moaning _._

Nancy takes a little longer but Steve knows his way around her, knows the perfect strokes, the right spots that have her arching her back and whining all high, and she comes undone sooner than she has with Jonathan at least. (He makes a mental note to ask for tips.)

She doesn't make a mess, thank God, but takes longer to recover. "That...I don't know if it was end of the world sex, or we just got back together sex or—or whatever! But that was great, Steve."

"Will be better next time when Jonathan recovers, yeah?" Such a gentleman, Jonathan thinks, and then Steve kisses his hand. 

"Much better," Nancy agrees, and she's purring, sprawling her head over Jonathan's chest. Her fingers ghost his crotch, and he groans. "Can you pict—"

"Please don't," he says quickly before she can say or do anything else that'll make his cock twitch. "My dick is...sad."

Steve barks out a laugh. "Man, I get it. Look, let's do something nice anyway. I'll make dinner."

"You can cook?" Jonathan and Nancy both gasp, Nancy adding, "how did I  _not_ know this?"

"I'm just an enigma," Steve smirks, trying to sound cool as he disentangles himself from them. He walks backwards, and mid-wink, walks into the wall. "Shit, you guys didn't see that—" he runs off, and Jonathan feels warm.

"Did that really just happen?" Nancy asks, slightly dazed. 

"Think so. I thought it was a dream, but the mind-numbing pain you caused me earlier was very real."

Nancy's hand is mid-air when she pauses. "You get this pass because you're in excruciating pain," she teases lightly, pressing their noses together. It sends a surge of something light in his chest, and Jonathan thinks it might be happiness. "You are in this, right? One hundred percent?"

He thinks of Steve, who's probably doing a ridiculous happy dance in nothing but his shirt in his kitchen. And Nancy who'd bolted the second she realized what she'd done out of embarrassment or  _real_ subtle detective work, because she could have played it off like that.

"Yeah," Jonathan says easily, thumbing Nancy's palm lazily, "I am."

"I am too, for the record!" Steve shouts from somewhere in the kitchen, and neither of them are surprised he's listening, too. 

**Author's Note:**

> i can very much see stoncy getting together like this, bc nancy accidentally kisses steve one day or they're all so TIRED of acting like nothing's happening and jonathan just. kisses steve. i like that.
> 
> anyways, my stonathan heart leaped with joy & i lived for Nancy's small smirks, her happy to wait for them to figure it out! & also Jonathan instantly going "i need to take PICTURES of THEM for ART" plz baby boy ... is art the name of ur penis or
> 
> pleaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaase comment if u enjoyed


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